Chapter 2

Crystal hated my work.

To her, painting was nothing but an expensive hobby, nowhere near as important as her endless string of business dinners and client meetings.

Because she hated it, I'd given up my own career after we got together and turned myself into a stay-at-home husband whose whole job was taking care of her. Every corner of our apartment was filled with things she liked. The only space that belonged to me was this study.

My old professor called to talk about the trip abroad. He said he'd always regretted that I'd given up painting all those years ago. Out of our entire graduating class, I'd been the most talented, and the only one who'd walked away from it.

He rambled on for a while, but it all came down to the same point: he wanted me to think about my own future, not let myself get soft and trapped again in the grind of daily life.

"Collin, people change. Even if she seemed perfect to you back then, give it enough time and all that sacrifice, all that hurt you swallowed, fades away. All that's left in her memory is her own resentment, her own hardship."

His words on the other end of the line left me quiet. What he'd said wasn't exactly kind, but it was honest, and it landed exactly where it needed to.

Back in college, Crystal used to pester me constantly to paint her portrait, then show it off proudly to everyone, bragging about what a talented boyfriend she had.

Maybe that was just how her feelings worked: quick to catch fire, just as quick to burn out. Or maybe I was never the kind of person she could stick with all the way through.

"Collin, are you all right?"

His voice pulled me back.

I gave a bitter smile, even though he couldn't see it. "Yeah. I'm fine."

The silence stretched out for a while before my old professor sighed softly. "Don't think about it too much. Professor Gary Baker's studio is willing to give you this chance. Make the most of it this time."

"I will. I promise."

I knew exactly how hard-won this opportunity was, and I knew that if I let it slip through my fingers, I might never get another shot at my dream for the rest of my life.

For one brief moment, I actually felt lucky. Six years wasted, and I still had a chance to start over.

Just as I was setting up to sketch out my audition piece, the study door creaked open a crack. "Takeout isn't as good as what you make. My stomach really hurts. Will you cook for me?"

I shook my head. "I need to paint. I don't have time."

The word painting alone was enough to make Crystal's eyebrows knit together. She pushed the door open the rest of the way, glared at my easel with open disdain, and turned her head away.

"Collin, could you have some ambition for once? What's the point of fooling around with this stuff? If you're that unwilling to just sit at home, I can find you an easy job, something that won't get in the way of things around the house. You..."

"No, thank you."

That struck a nerve again. Crystal hurled the cup in her hand at me. The glass shattered across the floor. The noise seemed to snap some of her sense back into place.

"I know you're jealous. But playing hard to get like this is completely pointless."

"I'm not jealous." I picked up the broom and started sweeping up the glass while I said it.

Crystal stared at me for a long moment, then bit out a threat. "Think carefully. If you don't take the way out I'm giving you now, you'll regret it later."

"Sure." I set the broom back where it belonged and nodded. "I have things to do. Can you go?"

"Collin, you've really outdone yourself!"

The door slammed shut behind her, hard enough to rattle the frame, and my world finally settled back into a fragile kind of peace.